


Polite Society

by owlpockets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-06
Updated: 2011-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlpockets/pseuds/owlpockets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had a ludicrous sort of style, yes, but it wasn’t exactly her style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Polite Society

**Author's Note:**

> Requested on helpthesouth at LJ. AU, follows Nice Jugs.

Bela was bored, and somewhat exasperated, and really, _did he have to wear that ridiculous false mustache in public?_

She watched Gabriel across the room as he flirted with the catering staff, tweaking one corner of his soup-strainer between thumb and forefinger. In the few months they’d been working together (and doing other things she was unwilling to admit in polite society), Bela had gotten used to the archangel’s carefree ways. Perhaps it had bothered her a little a first, but soon she realized Gabriel simply had more affection in him than Bela could ever absorb all on her own.

Draining her champagne, Bela left the glass heedlessly on the first tray she spotted, feeling loose from the drink and ready to conclude the evening. The party was going nowhere, but a few choice words to Gabe and they could get on with their true purpose here. She slid her hand over his shoulder, leaning close enough for her pin-straight honey blonde wig to brush against his ugly burgundy jacket. His smile was more impish than ravishing when he turned towards her. “Ciao, Bela. Ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“The safe is in the library, that’s where the book will be.” Bela answered. Gabriel’s hands were empty, then suddenly they weren’t, two vintage Tommy guns occupying his grip. The archangel was on the table before she could think to groan in embarrassment. He had a ludicrous sort of style, yes, but it wasn’t exactly her style.

A round of bullets fired into the ceiling caused chaos in the room, and Gabriel winked at her from the table, a cue to get on with the job. “Everybody on the floor, keep your eyes to yourselves and you might live.”

She just might have to kill him later for this one.


End file.
